


It All Started With a T-Shirt

by zetsubou_hana (Sakura_no_Miko)



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Fetish, Kink Meme, M/M, Neck fetish, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme, Slash, Yaoi, throat fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-17
Updated: 2008-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-17 15:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakura_no_Miko/pseuds/zetsubou_hana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phoenix shows up in a T-shirt, and Edgeworth is strangely obsessed with his neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Started With a T-Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this prompt](http://bludhavens.livejournal.com/31002.html?thread=8178202#t8178202) at the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme:  
>  _I think I've accidentally developed a neck fetish._
> 
>  
> 
> _I'm not sure how this happened, but OMFG, I need some fine male-on-male neck admiration. Licking is requisite. Perhaps in a Gumshoe/Edgeworth, Phoenix/Edgeworth, or Klavier/Apollo flavor?_

The geisha of Japan were famed for the lily-whiteness of their necks, the seductive flash of skin untouched by make-up and silk. He had always thought it a strange idea, until Wright had walked in to his office one day, not in his usual suit, but a plain t-shirt and jeans.

Edgeworth wasn’t really listening to him chatter about Pearl’s new dress or the new burger special. It was just background noise as he examined his paperwork. At least, until he glanced up, catching sight of that pinkish skin, disappearing into messy black hair and a white t-shirt that had seen better days. It was just his luck that Phoenix chose that moment to turn around, revealing an oddly low neckline. Not only his neck, but his throat exposed. 

Male wolves, Edgeworth recalled, would present themselves to their alpha by baring their neck to him, by allowing their most vulnerable spot to be naked and open to gnashing teeth. It was a sign of trust, a begging for something softer than teeth to caress that… Edgeworth gulped, watching the smallish Adam’s apple bob up and down against the thin skin of Phoenix’s throat. 

He was up and pressing Phoenix against the door, hands caressing the strong stomach beneath the thin shirt and lips mere millimeters away from that tender, luscious throat. He sighed, warm air against the sensitive skin, quieting whatever objections Phoenix might have made. He relished the first feeling of his lips against that throat, mentally imprinting the feeling into his memory. Smooth-shaved skin. The faint pulse of blood. The round weight of the Adam’s apple, stilled, unmoving. The taut muscles. The warm vibration of air in and out, flowing over his vocal cords. The sheer power of having nothing but a thin membrane keeping his teeth from silencing those objections forever. 

He kissed the Adam’s apple first, gently wrapping his mouth around it, worrying the bit of those powerful vocal cords, lightly scraping his teeth against it. Phoenix trembled, and he withdrew his teeth for fear of losing his careful control. Phoenix’s voice was such an integral part of him, to carelessly damage it would be a sin.

That soft, soft skin called to him, and he felt a dark, primal urge to bite it, to suck it ‘til the blood rushed and pooled into black and blue. Later, he told himself, drawing his mouth to safer territory. The neck sloped gently into a long ridge of bone, then a shoulder, and around to the flat blade of his back. He traced it with his tongue, from bone to the edge of dark hair that smelled so good. Phoenix shivered, but it was as if his voice was locked away, stolen, swallowed, perhaps, by Edgeworth’s insistent lips. 

Ah, that back that had first caught his attention. The skin here was tougher, stronger, kissed by sunlight and tasting of sweat. Edgeworth’s tongue lazily licked up and down, sweet salt like candy on his tongue. He inched the edge of the t-shirt down, as far as it would go, making the swipes longer before leaning back up to kiss the exposed skin right below Phoenix’s hairline. And then on to the other shoulder, edging — hah, Edgeworth edging and prowling — back to that glorious throat. Phoenix’s breathing was heavy, and Edgeworth found his hands wandering mindlessly along Phoenix’s chest and back. 

His lips found Phoenix’s, gentle, timid at first, until Phoenix kissed him back, tongues twining. Ever so romantic, Edgeworth thought sarcastically, but he still had to choke back a moan. 

“So, what brought this on, Miles?” Phoenix asked when they broke apart.

“Nothing,” he replied moodily. It would be Payne’s victory day in court before he admitted to Phoenix that that old, ratty t-shirt of his and a long, sleepless night of channel surfing had made him hotter than any of Phoenix’s foolish attempts at “romance.”

Thank God he wore a suit to court.


End file.
